


Cuddling

by sashocirrione



Category: Death Note
Genre: Backstory, Cuddling and Snuggling, Dry Humping, Dubious Consent, Gift Fic, Illnesses, Kink Meme, M/M, Pre-Canon, Prompt Fic, Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-14
Updated: 2011-08-14
Packaged: 2017-10-22 15:14:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/239428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sashocirrione/pseuds/sashocirrione
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>B and A compete over who is allowed to snuggle with a sleeping L and things get very heated between them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cuddling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Armagnac](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Armagnac/gifts).



**Title:** "Cuddling"

 **Author:** Sashocirrione

 **Spoilers:** Major spoilers for the spin-off novel "Death Note: Another Note: The Los Angeles BB Murder Cases" and extremely minor spoilers for the anime/manga series proper.

 **Warnings:** NO UNDERAGE READERS. Rated M for a reason. Sexual activities, including dubious/questionable actions, and sexually-themed discussion, including mentions of abuse.

 **Summary:** B and A compete over who is allowed to snuggle with a sleeping L and things get very heated between them.

 **Pairing:** BxLxA, sort of

 **Additional Notes:** This has almost nothing to do with canon events, since it is set before any of the canon. It doesn't contradict canon as far as I know, but it adds stuff to canon that wasn't there. In this fanfic I have chosen to interpret A's character as a male, even though the spin-off novel says nothing either way (the English translation chooses to use "he" and "his" for A) and even though I have made A female in at least one other fanfic.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Death Note, and I do not make any money from these writings.

* * *

It was a hot night, and A had left both his window and his door open, to allow a stiff breeze to blow straight through. He wished, not for the first time, that he had been allowed a basement room, down there in the cool, windowless earth. If allowed, it would be a place with no distractions, no weather fluctuations, and no eye-stabbing beams of sunlight to work around during the day as they poured through the window and sought out every nook, ever changing their angles.

But that place was for L. The entire maze of basement rooms and the rumored sub-basement had been taken by L. Almost nobody knew who L was, but A knew, and he knew that B knew as well. Others suspected, many of them, but they were too smart to voice their suspicions. Each one who did was soon after made to look like an idiot in an event that seemed as if it could not have been engineered by L or by any of the staff.

The real L quietly worked away on his cases, only rarely exiting from his basement fortress, all the while pretending to be an intern who worked for the real L but had never seen his face.

It was difficult to concentrate. The wind ruffled the pages A was trying to turn, making that familiar and irrational anger at the inanimate rise again in his gut, trying to consume him. For a moment he wanted to rip the pages out of the book in spite, but then that oft-battled impulse subsided again, smoothed over as always, and he was reassuring himself.

_Only a few more weeks, and I'll have completed my Ph.D. thesis for Cambridge._

A smiled. The thought of accomplishment was cheering, as always, and it really was time, after getting three master's degrees, to finally go for that Ph.D. It would impress L, no doubt about that.

A searched through the book, trying to find the right material for a particular footnote. The wind was still distracting; maybe the window and door should be closed, but then the heat would return and be distracting too. Everything felt irritating. Even the sounds of the pages as he turned them grated on his nerves.

Just then, a murmur of voices from the hallway made A pause in his task. He couldn't quite make out the words, but it sounded like a woman and a man, and the name "Laurent" had been mentioned, L's in-house alias. A stared at the darkened hallway, all alert, and this time he heard the woman's voice again, nearer and more distinct.

"It worries me, James, so many collapses. This boy is either on drugs or he's very ill. Just feel the way his bones stick out!"

James replied, "Mr. Wammy is taking care of it, I'm sure."

Moments later, James, one of the housekeepers, and Mary, one of the cooks, passed by A's door with L's slumped body slung between them. A's gaze followed L's long, thin limbs and his lolling head, L's eyes closed and lashes dark against his pale skin. He looked helpless and fragile.

Tapping sounds distracted A then, and he looked down and noticed he was responsible, furiously knocking a pen against the wood of the table he was seated at. It wasn't fair. He was the alternate, the top choice, and yet the household staff had more contact with L, albeit unknowingly, than he did. Most of the communications and training exercises he received from L came through the computer or through boxes of files delivered to his door, even though L lived in the same building and should be able to... able to...

There was a shadow moving in the hallway and A glanced up to see B stepping across, going in the same direction as the others, dressed like L, as had been B's habit lately, except for the socks which B loved and couldn't quite give up. B's steps were slow and stealthy. A ducked and kept his head down, not even fully looking in that direction, and considered.

_Surely B couldn't have cracked the codes again? But, if he did... I must protect L. It's probably nothing. B is likely just following them for no reason but to watch, and he can't get into L's rooms... maybe._

A waited the appropriate amount of time and then followed. He did not see B anywhere on the trip, or hardly anyone else for that matter. It was too late for most. He stopped a few times just on the other side of corners that were perfect for ambushing, in case B had actually doubled back to follow him in turn, but no B appeared.

At last, A stood before the metal doors that were the entrance to L's underground lair, and typed in the new code he'd managed to decipher just a few days before, hoping it was still good. The doors slid open with almost no sound at all, and A stepped into a long, carpeted hallway with rich wood-paneled walls and decorated with occasional oil paintings and small tables holding sprays of dried flower arrangements.

L's bedroom was the third door on the left, the place where the servants had undoubtedly left L, like always. Self-consciously, A stopped biting his lip, took a few deep breaths, and told hold of the doorknob, telling himself that what he was doing was right. L wouldn't catch him and, if L did, it was all for a good cause.

The doorknob was cool in his clammy hand. A eased it open slowly, slowly, his heart jumping to see L curled in a fetal position on the bed, shown by a lump under the blanket, and then his heart was dropping into his stomach again to see B's form, partly hidden on the opposite side of L but undoubtedly there, close, snuggling L just gently.

Walking over there, each footfall as silent as he could make it, A narrowed his eyes and whispered, "How did you get in, Backup?"

In a return whisper, B said, "I just waited for you to crack the code and then copied your work, Alternate. Get out."

"That's not... you're just proving your inferior intelli-"

"L takes shortcuts too. I _can_ do it myself, but shortcuts are efficient."

Without quite being aware of it until he was already in the process of doing it, A found himself slipping into bed on the opposite side of L, sliding under the covers and almost, almost being close enough to touch L. He could hear and see L's soft breathing and felt L's body heat radiating outward.

"What are you doing?" A whispered.

B rolled his eyes and replied, "I'm cuddling L, genius!"

"Molester! Are you sure you're not trying to touch his wiener?"

"Heh, you still call it wiener," B said in a low, breathy snicker.

L stirred slightly and they both froze.

When L's breathing had become regular and deep once more, B's hand came up, the skin just slightly darker than L's milky-pale shade despite B's best efforts to stay out of the sun, and peeled back the blanket. A made a low, disapproving hiss as B slowly, slowly rolled the blanket down, revealing L's curled body, his back and shoulders facing A and his black shock of hair nearly tickling A's nose. The blanket continued slowly receding until all was revealed, L in his usual everyday clothing.

"See," B hissed, "I'm not molesting him. He hates the blanket anyway. Staff always tries to put him under one but he sleeps better without."

"You could do it later! If I wasn't watching now, who knows if you'd be trying to rape him?"

B blinked and with finality in his voice, said, "It can't happen. He'll wake from any strong touch or if I try to uncurl his legs."

"So you've tried it!"

"No, I just..."

B nibbled on his finger in a disconcertingly L-like way, and then added, "I just tried to snuggle better a few times, that's all."

A whispered harshly, "I'll tell on you!"

"They already know about my past... schemes. Besides, I'll say we were in it together this time. I got the code from you, you followed me, and you used this excuse to snuggle L too."

"No!"

B let out a very soft, insane little giggle and said, "Yes, yes, my boy. If you pull on me, I'll drag you down as well; we're crabs in a barrel, Alternate."

A whispered, "Backup."

They glared at each other across the thin form of L that separated them, oblivious to the battle in whispers.

A said, "It's my duty to stay here and watch you, because L is vulnerable. I wasn't going to tell you this, but it seems I have no choice. Don't you wonder why L seems so determined to use every bit of time he has, staying awake for days on end until he collapses like this and sleeps for seventeen hours straight? Don't you wonder why L has an entire orphanage full of potential replacements? He's dying."

"He's not dying," B said, "he's just a workaholic."

"No, he's dying."

B said, "I'm sure he's not. L will outlive all of us. We're quite useless, aren't we? Our purpose for existing is futile."

B's knees were quite close to A's own. L's curled-up body kept their top halves separated, but there was nothing to stop A down below and he suddenly kicked viciously, striking B's shin and smiling as B bit his lips and his entire face turned bright red from the strain of keeping silent.

While A enjoyed B's new color, A whispered, "I won't tell you everything because you don't deserve to know. L has a very rare genetic disorder. He requires enormous amounts of calories to live, and yet he's still this thin. Very few people with his disorder live past age thirty. He does not want L's network of contacts and methods of operation to go to waste when the original L dies."

A could feel tears trembling on his lashes and furiously tried to blink them away.

In a tender whisper, B said, "You want to enjoy him while you still can. Why don't you touch him? If you're gentle, he won't wake up, I promise."

Without quite meaning to, without making a conscious decision, A found himself having suddenly closed the distance between L's radiating heat and his own body. His left arm trembled as he rested it along L, curling to settle his hand on top of L's kneecaps, alongside L's own fingers.

There was only fabric separating them and L was warm, so warm except for his hands which A hoped to heat through contact. L's hair smelled incredibly good. A breathed it deeply, taking in the scent, curling closer, possessively, and his legs were tangled with B's below L's body.

B said, "L uses kiwi-scented shampoo."

Breathing more brought that scent strongly into A, overwhelming him, and just beneath the overtones of kiwi there was L's own scent, his bodily masculine, tangy odor.

A whispered, "His hair is softer than yours, B."

Trembles ran through A's body and he tried to still them in case L might wake up, but, no, L seemed to be quite a deep sleeper and A wanted to hold L close forever and guard over him. The three of them were a knotted ball of a group hug, two combative, one utterly oblivious.

B said, "It's nice to hold him."

"Yes," A reluctantly agreed.

A held him and held him and never wanted to let go. There was the perfect excuse, as long as B was present. L must be protected.

B softly murmured, "Alternate, do you... what do you think of him?"

"He's perfect. Better than any of us."

"Nobody's perfect. L was the worst when he didn't tell us that some of those practice cases were ongoing and real, with criminals who could escape if we made the wrong decisions. Do you touch yourself and think of him?"

A could feel a blush burning his face, hopefully hidden by the near-darkness of the room.

B's hand settled on A's thigh. A was about to speak when B said, "Hush, I won't tell. Don't think of me. Think of L. Hold him close and..."

The hand moved to the outside of A's trousers, right between his legs. A's eyes were wide, his heart beating faster and faster. It felt so right but... L would know.

A whispered, "He'll find the evidence!"

"No," B said, "I'm not going to... really... touch you directly..."

A was disappointed, and then he felt that hand of B's moving on the outside of the cloth over his crotch; soft, insistent, arousing movements, stroking willfully, with a skill A didn't expect.

B whispered, "I'm L. I'm holding you and I love you and I'm going to help you get off."

A closed his eyes and believed, pushing into the pressure with little snaps of his hips, humping into B's hand, and he had L, L in his arms and that voice, whispering to him, helping the fantasy, and when the pressure built up and he thought he couldn't take it any more he inhaled a deep scent of L's hair, turned his head, bit the pillow, and came as hard as he ever had in his life.

B's warm hand was cupping him on the outside of the clothing, B's voice still murmuring to him, little sweet nothings as lovers must say to each other. A's senses were whirling, his mind confused as the high slowly faded.

_I yearn for L, not B, don't I? Shouldn't this be a bad thing? Did I... did I molest L by hugging him while I... while I let B... I let him?_

"Bring your knee up," B whispered.

A did, and B grasped it hard between his thighs, grinding his trapped, clothed erection against it.

"It's my turn," B said, "I'm L and I want to use your knee this way."

A held L softly and imagined it, and it was good, a wonderful fantasy. In A's mind, L wanted it, L was going to come. L needed, truly needed A for something other than research and training. It was easy to grasp L's shoulders, gently, tangling legs with B until a sudden hitch in the rhythm followed by the firmness turning to softness signaled an end to the game.

"He can't find out," A whispered.

"I won't tell him," B replied.

They both lay in the darkness, thinking their own thoughts in silence for what may have been hours, until A was finding himself almost falling asleep snuggled along L's protective warmth.

"We'll go now," A whispered.

B carefully extracted himself and A did the same, careful to make no sudden movements. L looked as oblivious as ever, all alone now, curled on his side with his chin thrust down between his knees. With a scowl, B pulled the blanket over him, slowly, slowly, until it was just as the servants had left L.

A imagined L becoming thinner and thinner every year, crumbling away, dying. A felt his conscience pricking at him, a feeling of wrongness backed up by all too much in the form of logic. L was L, and sooner or later L would find out.

B would have to be watched every time, and it would happen again. The snuggling, the touching, the role-playing would all repeat the same way unless A could personally put a stop to it, to resist the allure and to simply turn B in, damn the consequences.

As they exited and the metal doors slid shut behind them, B gave a furtive glance and said, "You'll come again?"

A shoved his hands into his pockets and looked at the floor, pondering the double meaning of the message until B was gone. Deep down, he knew he wasn't a good enough person to resist B's bait. Holding L was the best thing that had happened in years. Even if it might at last be the thing to make L move away, it was still irresistible.

B hardly even needed to use the blackmail he was surely holding in reserve.

* * *

**A/N (Author's Note):**

This fanfic was written as two things. One, I wrote it as a thank-you fic for Armagnac's fan fiction. She writes a lot of great genfic or barely-smutty pairing fics, with a lot of emphasis on pre-canon days and her own interesting versions of A, B and L. Most of her fics are connected as in being loosely part of the same continuity, but many of them can be read on their own or out of order because they are fairly self-contained. Spoilers for other fanfics of hers are duly noted in the author's notes, so you can jump in anywhere without worry and see what you're getting into.

Two, I wrote it as a fill for a prompt on the Death Note kink meme (it is dn_kink2 on livejournal) but I probably wouldn't have written it if I weren't looking for an idea with A, B and L in it in order to write a thank-you fic for Armagnac. The request on the kink meme says:

"B/L/A-Cuddling.

B sneaks into L's room while he's sleeping and crawls into bed with him. A follows, slipping in on the other side of L. B gets _pissed_ and a battle in hushed whispers ensues, as not to wake L.

Bonus points if writer can actually smut this. Without L waking."


End file.
